


Wanna Play House?

by ForgottenChesire



Series: Kinktober 2018 [9]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Crossdressing, Crossdressing James Wilson, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kinktober 2018, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 17:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16269011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: Wilson laughs. Airy and carefree. It lightens the burden that he tries to ignore. That clings to his shoulders and lungs. That makes his arms shake. Slowly compared to when he was healthy, compared to how he was at the beginning of their trip, he strips out of his clothes. House is there, helping him lift up the shirt. Unbutton the pants. Today is a good day. Today is a good day. No pain. He still has the energy for doing things. Today is so good that he hasn’t thrown up. In the dark part of his mind, he knows. Knows from helping others go through what he is going through. Today is going to be the last good day he has.





	Wanna Play House?

**Author's Note:**

> Day 11 Crossdressing

He looks down at the dress in his hands. It’s simple, white with short sleeves and a modest neckline. It’s loose and the fabric so soft that he has to resist rubbing it on his cheek. Slowly he drags his eyes up away from the dress. House is standing there, something soft in his eyes that he has gotten good at spotting. Something that they don’t name. Can’t name now. That emotion that flutters in his heart and keeps him fighting this losing battle.

 

“House?” he asks, hands twisting the dress just the tiniest of bits.

 

“You mentioned wanting to play house once.”

 

Wilson laughs. Airy and carefree. It lightens the burden that he tries to ignore. That clings to his shoulders and lungs. That makes his arms shake. Slowly compared to when he was healthy, compared to how he was at the beginning of their trip, he strips out of his clothes. House is there, helping him lift up the shirt. Unbutton the pants. Today is a good day. Today is a good day. No pain. He still has the energy for doing things. Today is so good that he hasn’t thrown up. In the dark part of his mind, he knows. Knows from helping others go through what he is going through. Today is going to be the last good day he has. 

 

The dress, something he has wanted to try for so long, is a little loose. But for something that he has been dreaming of, envying his ex-wives and girlfriends for… It’s perfect. He loves it.

 

House kisses him. Facial hair scratchy on his face. No words are exchanged as they press against each other. They fall onto the bed like those romance novels. The ones with the big busty women and muscular men. Lube is procured and boxers tossed away, dress pushed up to his hips. Despite any pain, the position puts House into he stretches Wilson open as devoutly as a minister prays. It’s not the first time that they’ve done this. That they’ve had sex. There have been drunken encounters and grief-filled tangos. Celebration fucks and stress relief fumbles. Sex is good. They both agree on that and it’s strengthened their friendship. But this? This is different. Something gentle in the way that House thrusts his fingers into him, pressing against his prostate.

 

Then when he’s stretched out, when he’s open and needing to be filled, Wilson flips them so that he’s on top of House. He looks down at House, stares into those blue eyes that would drive a lesser man to kill. And then he sinks down. Slides home with a contented sigh, not even waiting for the soft burn of being filled to die down before he’s moving again. It starts with slow rocking. A movement of his hips. The dress is bunched up, rubbing against his erection as he bounces. House’s hands are gripping his hips through the fabric, helping him move up and down. Pants and the slap of skin against skin fill the air. Heaven. This is his heaven. House filling him to the brim, holding him.

 

“Yes. Right there. Feels so good. It feels so so goooood. Gonna. Gonna come. Don’t want to. Not yet. Please? Oh! Oh!”

 

He babbles, hands scrambling and thighs squeezing. Movements get sloppy. House lets go with one hand so that he can jerk Wilson off. It’s too much. He climaxes. Comes harshly, messily, body stilling as he does. Then once he has his breath back he renews his efforts. It brings him so much satisfaction to see House’s eyes darken and then glaze as he tumbles over the edge.

 

They should move. Get clean. But Wilson… He wants to stay right where he is. Connected to House. The words they don’t say dancing around in his head as the shadows in the room creep ever closer. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

It’s the closest he can get. His body is heavy now. Making it easy to be moved. Heart beating slowly he turns his head. Watches as House sits up. Lungs expanding. Contracting. Shadows moving closer still. Whispering. House kisses his forehead, his lips.

 

“You’ll be here when I wake up, won’t you?” It feels like he’s telling a lie. Waking up. Something dark settles on him. But it’s a whisper. A plea. He’s so tired. 

 

“You can’t get rid of me.”  _ I’m going to follow you. _

 

With a sad smile, he closes his eyes. Lets out a long sigh as House runs his hand through his hair. And then he slips into the waiting darkness that promises an end to his pain.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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